


A Petal For My Love

by ShippedTrash



Series: Hanahaki Disease [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Writing Style, Character Death, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11237514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippedTrash/pseuds/ShippedTrash
Summary: Prompt - the Hanahaki disease.'The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.'





	A Petal For My Love

The first time Yuri found himself coughing up blood and flowers was when he was 14 years old. He’d run to the nearest bathroom, skates still on, and he’d thrown up onto his hand and covering the floor with blood. Once he’d regained control of his body he’d looked in his hand to see a single flower there, dripping with scarlet blood. He could feel tears building up his eyes and he just sat down and cried, and cried and cried. He felt the shame rise in him. That’s where Victor found him, an hour later, curled up in his own blood with a little sunflower resting in his hair. 

6 months later Yuri could feel the same gnawing in his stomach. He could feel his body shuddering, anticipating. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could see himself dropping his fork, scrambling away from the dinner table and up the stairs where he collapsed and where blood dripped, dripped. Pale skin contrasting against the red and yellow petals that danced in his eyes for a sweet second before he blinked and the world stopped spinning. 

It happened again. Three months. He was on the ice and alone with Victor. They were arguing, Victor was laughing and Yuri felt content in the familiar atmosphere. And then his throat clogged up, His breaths hitched and a growing feeling of discomfort doubled him over. His hands clapped over his mouth and he heaved and gasped for air. A drop of blood trickled down his chin. A cough escaped. And he was down, Victor desperately trying to hold him up, wiping away the sunflowers and the blood and the worry. And Yuri smiled. And his future was clear to him.

It never happened again. He would never feel the rising ache in his chest and he’d never feel the silky touch of the yellow petals as they fell past his lips. He could skate and he could fly without restraint. He would regret his choice, break down, allow himself to feel vulnerable. But he never let it stop him. Day by day he grew and he grew. 

6 months after his 16th birthday. All his hard work, all his struggles. What did they mean? What did his actions show the man in front of him who looked so sincere. How could Yuri voice his mistake to the one he’d loved, the one he’d wanted? Was it possible? No, Yuri didn’t think so. All he could do was apologise. Over. And over. Incoherent words. He switched languages every now and then, rapid Russian, timid Japanese, angry English. His best friend, his first love, his support. Should he allow the guilt to overwhelm him? Would that be punishment enough? Did he really deserve this? Why had his fate been so cruel? But he made a promise. A promise he vowed to keep. He wouldn’t die to keep it, he couldn’t die if it meant allowing his friend’s memory to live on. He would keep his end of the bargain, training faster, going further, flying higher. He refused to stop until the day a small, almost dead sunflower sat, shining up at him.


End file.
